The Heavenly Host

“I am not sure why you simply did not call a meeting; would that not have been easier?” Hilda asked, puzzled.

“Well, based on your experience on the ground, I thought I might try it myself. The situation has escalated and I now need to be very much on top of the game.” Beragamos shook his head ruefully.

“Escalated?” Hilda chuckled. “That is one way of putting it.”

Beragamos grimaced. “No, no — I am not speaking of events in Murgatroy or even here. Although I am thinking we may want to reopen a temple in Norelon and establish a permanent base for the Rod. However, that too is not my current concern. The escalation occurred in Tierhallon.”

Hilda got a concerned and uncertain look on her face, suddenly afraid of what he meant.

Beragamos nodded at her expression; it was as he had thought. “Yes, I was summoned to the Palaestra this morning.” Hilda gulped. She knew what that meant.

“Our god read the reports I filed, and called me in to discuss it personally,” Beragamos said.

Hilda felt her stomach going through the seat of her chair. This kind of scrutiny could not be good.

Beragamos nodded, but then smiled. “However, on the bright side, after reading about you and hearing of your interviewing the orcs in the wargtown, our god is most pleased with your work,” Beragamos said.

Hilda sighed, that was a huge relief. “Well, that’s good,” she said with a smile.

Beragamos nodded. “It is good indeed. The downside” — Hilda looked concerned again — “is that he wants to meet you in person to get your firsthand impressions on the situation and what your experience has been with this new method of inquiry you have pioneered.”

There was a moan from the couch and then a thunk. The two avatars looked over to where Danyel had been sitting to find him on the floor passed out, having slid off the couch. Beragamos looked at Hilda and raised an eyebrow.

Hilda smiled and shook her head. “That is where I would be right now, if I had not already had a bit of sparkly to ease my nerves. Poor Danyel has not had any alcohol in several days.”

Beragamos chuckled. “Well then, the lad will not ever want to meet Tiernon in his Palaestral form.” He took a sip of his sparkling cocktail.

∼

Reggie took time to enjoy the sensation of his room fading in around him. He was back from “work,” if you could call having dream sex with women work. It was practice sex, but it was still sex. But he figured it was more like working on a porno film. He kept getting technical instructions from Merrit-Ptah, his accursed mistress. It was not as fun as one might think.

But the good news was, he was getting a night off! Woo hoo! And it just happened to be on the night of the party. Merit-Ptah and her peeps were relocating to a different city, and so she would not be summoning him this coming night. That meant he could be at the party!

He had not been to a good party in a long time. The last one he had been at, Tom had gone and died on them. That had really busted up the party. The weeks after had also been stressful, which is why he had been smoking, trying to take a break, only to die en flagrante, so to speak, and end up here.

“I need a joint,” Reggie said to himself. A good blunt would take the stress off. Of course, that is what had gotten him into this screwed-up situation in the first place. Shaking his head, he headed off to the mortal suite.

When he got there, things were fairly quiet. Apparently, the orcs were still asleep. Estrebrius and Antefalken were playing cards. Two individuals he did not recognize were out on the balcony, watching the never-ending ceremony.

“How goes?” he asked the two demons.

“Good up here,” Antefalken said.

Reggie gestured with his head to the volcano. “There?”

“Good. Going pretty smooth, might end up a little ahead of schedule even,” Antefalken said.

“Only issue was Tizzy running around his kitchen late last night, screeching about needing more butter,” Estrebrius said.

“What is with this guy and buttah?” Reggie tried to say it like Tizzy, sort of yenta-like.

Estrebrius squinted. “Don’t know, but I think he meant regular butter this time, for his ‘magic cookies.’ He sent some of his demon buddies out to get more.”

Reggie shrugged. “Well, that’s easy enough, I guess.” He was not sure actually sure where you would get butter in the Abyss, or how one kept it from melting.

“Yeah, but he was freaking because he has to do something with it, melt it down and infuse it with some secret ingredient, I guess, and then strain it out.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow at that. “I think I am going to want some of these cookies.”

He wandered out onto the balcony and peered over the edge to see the line waiting to go up and swear to Tom. Boy, was this freaky or what? He glanced over to his two companions. They were not D’Orcs, demons, or orcs. There were sort of like really old, ugly humans.

One was about six feet tall but rather hunched; the other looked fairly human, but was under five feet tall and really burly. They both had very calloused hands resting on the balcony.